We’re sitting at the kitchen table. Rissa is watching Sex and the City on her phone while she enjoys her cinnamon raisin toast. It’s the episode where Charlotte and Trey are having a frank discussion about their nonexistent sex life. After all this time, I can’t really remember all the plot points of the series…
Our weekly pancakes aren’t going entirely to plan. We don’t have buttermilk on hand, and none of us feel like masking up and braving the No Frills to get it. Granny’s recipe is always better with buttermilk. “Can’t we just use regular milk?” asks Rissa. “How about we sour the milk. It only takes…” I…
“Uh-oh,” I say as I’m about to step into my bedroom. “What?” asks Rissa. “Hold these,” I say, pushing freshly washed sheets into her arms. (Sidebar: have I mentioned that I have a kid who never complains when I ask her to be my Plus One in household chores? She’s a fucking unicorn.) “Why?” She…
It felt as though we were missing a limb for about eight months, but we managed to survive Rissa’s first year at university. However, with no one to “adult” for, we devolved into teenagers ourselves. We forgot to do laundry, haphazardly cleaned the house and rarely grocery shopped. Rissa would come home for a weekend…
Rissa is taking up all the space in front of the bathroom sink – arranging her eyebrows. “Excuse me hon,” I politely request – reaching for the taps so that I can wash my hands. “Sorry…” She scoots out of the way, allowing me full tap access, before returning to the mirror with tweezers in…
“So if they’re asking do I have experience working with animals, does that mean REAL experience? I mean, I have three cats,” says Rissa. “Yes, you do have three cats,” I reply. “And don’t discount the dogs that we’ve had.” “But do they mean experience like squeezing a gopher’s anal glands?” “What!?!” “Or like, I’ve…
“OH MY GOD!” Rissa exclaims. “What?” I ask, glancing up from my e-reader. “This,” she says, indicating her book. “THIS. STUPID. BOOK.” “What are you reading?” “Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. ARGH!” The book has fallen from her hands and banged her on the head. “Dude. Careful.” “It’s not me! IT’S. THIS. STINKING. BOOK.” She…
“IT’S IMPOSSIBLE!!!” wails Rissa. “WE’RE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT!!!” She is flailing, face-down, on the couch. “Yes we will honey.” I smooth her back. “We’ve got 77 days.” “And 95 episodes!!” How are we going to watch 95 episodes in 77 days?!?” “Easy. One episode a day, with 18 days where we watch two.”…
Rissa and I are watching bingeing Gilmore Girls. Cats blanket our already afghaned laps. EMILY: Oh look — Barbara Stanwyck. I just love Barbara Stanwyck. LORELAI: Oh yeah, she’s good. EMILY: She had that wonderful voice — that husky, deep voice. I just love that voice. LORELAI: You know Mom, you have kind of a…
… asks Rissa as I pop open my e-reader. “I’m asking, ’cause you mostly have dirty books on there, right?” “Yes, there are mostly dirty books on this e-reader. But this one hasn’t gotten dirty yet.” I’m not a fan of Dickens when I’m winding down with a book. Some good character development, some sex,…